I'm Right Here
by Verde is Pretty
Summary: The late Master Cyclonis has passed on. As he patrols the halls of the castle, he hears a familiar voice crying in the dark. Cyclonis/Dark Ace Friendship/Family relationship. One-shot.


** I grew up during the Storm Hawks Era. You know, when TV actually had pretty good cartoons on? That said, I never did watch the show. It was that show you watched whenever there was nothing on, and when you ****_did_**** watch it, you would think, ****_Hm, pretty cool. But it seems like there's a lot to watch to know what's going on._**** Now that I'm older, I finally watched it online.**

** And it's pretty good so far.**

** Good enough for me to get up my lazy butt and write a fanfic about it. Master Cyclonis and the Dark Ace were probably my favorite characters since they're so evil and badass. And who doesn't love an evil and badass character? As such, this fanfic is about them and what I think their relationship is like.**

** It's been a while since I wrote something, so I might be a little rusty. Sorry if this seems a little OOC. I only just finished the first season. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The hallways seemed to echo louder as they synchronized almost perfectly with his footsteps. He walked by a window and stopped in his tracks to look outside. The skies were pitch black, in contrast to the usual stormy crimson glow and swirling clouds. If he squinted, he could have seen the stars glow ever so faintly from the distance. There was no moon tonight, which only made everything seem more ominous and depressing than it already was.

_It's like the sky is miserable as well,_ he thought to himself as he continued his patrol of the Cyclonis Castle.

It had been four days since the death of the late Master Cyclonis. It was expected, though. After all, she was an elderly woman. Though she radiated a fearsome aura and her presence just screamed "menacing power," it did not exempt her from the cold, cruel claws of death. It was expected, but not expected so soon.

When Cyclonia heard of the passing of their ruler, everything seemed to freeze. No one was prepared for it. Some wept while some started panicking about who would be their new Master. Cyclonians turned their heads to the government, hoping that they would have someone lead them to the unified and glorious empire that they had been fighting so hard for.

Contrary to what many Atmos inhabitants believed, Cyclonia was not an evil force that wanted to conquer all the other terras for the sake of conquering. After all, what kingdom was that arrogant and stupid to do that? Well, actually, there were plenty of them in history, but Cyclonia was definitely not one of them. No, the reason why Cyclonia was hell bent on capturing all the terras was so that the world could be united. It was so that the world could be together under one peaceful empire where everyone was treated fairly. That was the ultimate goal of Cyclonia.

It was too bad the rest of Atmos did not want that. Was it Cyclonia's fault for not making their point clear? Perhaps, but the thing was, who was going to believe them? Invading a terra usually sparked alarm, no matter what reason the invader gave. The best course of action, as was decided many generations ago, was to invade and conquer by force and just let time settle in and allow the people to accept their fates. It was not the best way, but in all honesty, no one else was able to come up with a better plan.

And now that the mastermind behind the whole plot was dead, who was going to lead them? Who was going to lead Cyclonia's rule and march the people of Atmos to a future of peace? Certainly not the late Cyclonis' son. When the late Cyclonis retired, deciding that her time had come to an end, and handed the throne to her son, the latter was shortly taken down by enemy Sky Knights. His airship fell to the Wastelands and his body was never found. After that, the then-retired ruler had to resume her role as Master of Cyclonia once more.

A sob rang in his ear. He quickened his pace. He knew where that sniffle came from and from whom. He made his way to a large set of doors—the Cyclonian royal family crest chiseled into wood. He raised a knuckle and tentatively knocked on it.

The sobbing stopped and silence drifted in the air. He knocked once more.

"Hey, kiddo?" he muttered. "Can I come in?"

It was silent once more, but it was soon broken by a shaky, "Okay."

He pressed against the door and opened it slowly. As he stuck his head in, he could barely see anything, save for a queen-sized bed and a dresser in the far corner. On the bed was a small, feminine figure sitting with her knees tucked into her chest and the blanket sprawled over her, covering her head.

He made his way over to the huddled figure and sat on the bed next to her.

"What are you doing up, Lark?" he asked half-jokingly, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Lark Cyclonis did not answer and hugged her knees closer to her chest.

His expression softened. "You okay?" He mentally slapped himself for blurting that out. Of _course_, she was not okay. She had just lost her beloved grandmother—her only family—only four short days ago. Though she was only twelve-years-old, she had already gone through so much pain. Her mother died in childbirth, her father blasted out of the sky, and now her grandmother was now buried six feet under the ground. The world seemed to want to make her life full of misery, and she did nothing to deserve it.

Lark nodded her head numbly and mumbled, "Hanging in there."

He nodded his head as well. "Good to know."

Another silence fell upon them. He looked around the room and slid his palms against his pants, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Usually, it was not like this. Usually, Lark would be asking him questions about what it was like to fly as well as he did or how his latest battle was. If he was being honest, Lark was like the little sister he never had, and he loved and cared for her all the same.

"There's been more talks lately," Lark whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" he grunted.

"There's been more talks lately," she repeated. "Amongst the council, I mean. I've been going to the meetings, you know, to listen what's going to happen. And, well, today we reached a verdict."

His eyes widened with surprise and he unconsciously leaned forward, eager to hear. The fate of Cyclonis was decided?

"…Starting next week, I will be coroneted, and I will be the new Master Cyclonis."

His jaw must have hit the ground because that was what it felt like. He could not believe what he was hearing. Lark, the twelve-year-old Cyclonian princess, the twelve-year-old _child_, was going to be the new ruler? That was absurd! What was the council thinking? It was not just because she lacked experience in ruling, but she was just a kid! A kid who would spend her days playing around with crystals and asking for stories about epic battles.

"Wh—" he began, unsure what to say. "A-Are you serious? Lark, tell me you're joking."

The young royal turned her gaze to him. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from her crying before, but it was not just that. The usual shine in her violet orbs were gone and replaced with a dull, lifeless void that was unnerving.

"You're not," he said, defeated. "Lark—"

Suddenly, Lark let out a choked sob before pressing her forehead to against her knees. Tears flowed freely from her face and into the fabric of her sleepwear. Her shoulders shook up and down as she trembled like a leaf being blown by a small breeze.

"Ace," she mumbled, her voice muffled. "I-I don't want to be Master Cyclonis."

Ace's chest twisted into a knot. At the same time, he could feel the pit of his stomach roar like a ferocious fire. So he did the best thing he could think of doing at that moment. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close and let her head rest against the crook between his neck and shoulder. He held her tightly, as if he were to let her go, she would completely crumble to bits.

"It's gonna be okay, kiddo," he said. "I'm right here." He paused and added, "Didn't you say no?"

"Of course I did!" Lark half-shouted, her voice cracking. "I even begged them not to let me be the next ruler! But they kept telling me that the people's best interests were if the next direct heir took the throne. They said something about how it will make Cyclonians support our cause even more. I don't know how it will, but that's what they said."

_Bullshit,_ he thought. Even _he_ could not see how that would raise support. If anything, it would decrease it. Having a child rule them would make the soldiers and the people question the competency of their government, which would eventually lead everything and everyone into chaos.

"Can't they just get the head councilman or something to take over until you're older?" Ace inquired.

"That's what I suggested!" Lark cried, sniffling. "I even said they could have full control until I was old enough. But they wouldn't listen and they set the date for my coronation even though I kept pleading them not to." She buried her face back into her knees and let out a stifled wail.

Ace simply held her tighter and rubbed her back to comfort her. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to quell his anger. He hated the council at that moment with a fiery passion.

The only sound that rang through the air was Lark's sobs. The young royal kept shaking almost nonstop. Ace felt frustrated with himself. He wanted to desperately make her stop, but he could not do anything about it. All he could do was comfort Lark until she cried her fill.

After about fifteen minutes, Lark's cries devolved into soft sniffling. Her eyes and nose were pink and swollen, and she was now latched onto Ace's shoulders. As she gulped down a lump in her throat, she tried to recompose herself.

"I'm scared," she croaked.

Ace furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

She pushed herself from Ace's grasp and looked down. "I'm scared of being Master Cyclonis. I don't want to be like Father and Grandmother."

"What do you mean?"

"When Father was Master Cyclonis, he got shot down. And when Grandmother was Master Cyclonis, she died, too. I…I don't want to die too, Ace. I don't want to die like them."

Ace grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes, his expression full of determination. No, he was not going to let her suffer anymore. He was not going to let her live on fearing her life. He was going to do something about it.

"That won't happen," he said lowly.

Lark blinked, taken aback at his sudden aggression.

"That's not gonna happen, and you know why, Lark?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Because I'll be right next to you, protecting you. I swear I won't let anything hurt you or even touch you. I'll make sure your safe all the time, even if I have to risk my life to do so."

Lark's eyes widened as her mind tried to process what Ace was telling her. She could feel the corners of her eyes well up with tears and her chest swell with warmth. She was touched and relieved to hear him say something like that. His protectiveness was one of the reasons why she considered him to be the older brother she never had and wished for.

Ace took a finger and wiped a tear that was leaking down her cheek. "I got your back, Lark. Count on it. So no more crying, okay?"

Lark nodded and smiled slightly. "Okay. Thank you, Ace."

Ace smiled back confidently. "Anytime, kiddo.

* * *

Lark nervously tugged on one of the curls of her robe that rose behind her head. She was still trying to get used to the official Master Cyclonis attire. She stood before the doors that would lead to the castle balcony, and beneath the castle stood the people of Cyclonia, all of them eagerly waiting for the coronation of their new Master. Lark drew a deep breath to calm her tingling nerves.

"Excuse me, your Highness?" one of the councilman peeped from her right.

She turned her head to his direction and blinked.

"Are you ready now? The people are waiting."

Lark nervously looked around, as if searching for something. "Wait, not yet. I still haven't seen—"

"Lark!" Ace's voice rang from down the hall. He ran up to her, short of breath, and skidded to a halt. "Did I make it?"

Lark pouted slightly. "You almost didn't. You're late."

Ace shrugged slightly. "Sorry. Just checking out the perimeters. You know, making sure things are safe."

Lark smiled before turning back to the doors. "That's okay, then."

The councilman cleared his throat. "Now then, your Highness. Is everything ready?"

Lark nodded. "Yes. Let us begin."

The guards standing by the door grabbed onto the latches and pulled, letting the giant doors creak open. Cheers and yells could be heard in the distance as a small dot of light shined from the end of the violet and black hallway. Before Lark took the first step, she slowly grabbed Ace's hand and steeled herself.

Ace looked down at Lark and whispered, "I'm right here, Lark."

The soon-to-be new Master Cyclonis nodded again and stepped forward, marching bravely with her head held high and her one true friend and champion right next to her.

* * *

**I decided to use Lark as Master Cyclonis' real name since that seems to be fwhat the fans think it is. I had no idea what to use for the Dark Ace, so I just ended up calling him Ace. Real creative, eh?**

** I've always seen these two having an older brother-little sister relationship. I dunno, it just kind of made sense to me. I didn't really see much romantic development between the two while I was watching. But at the same time, they did seem to care for each other, what with Dark Ace constantly being loyal to Cyclonis and saving her life a few times and Cyclonis being more forgiving towards him whenever he fails.**

** Anyway, am I the only one that wondered why Cyclonia would want to conquer all of Atmos? Seriously, there's usually a reason beyond "because we're so powerful and we're evil, so there!" But since Storm Hawks is a kid's show, they had to limit it to that. Kind of makes me wish that the show were aimed more towards teenagers and young adults. I think if that happened, Storm Hawks would have been on air for a little while longer.**

** Well, whatever. I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. Again, I haven't written something in a while, but it was good enough to entertain you for a little while. **

** Thank you.**


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